Der Großmann
by sorellanutella
Summary: "The palest man, the blackest suit, Bigger than the tallest brute." With the demon's evil cry, Gilbert Beilschmidt knew he'd surely die. He could try to run, he could try to hide, but all his efforts would not abide. For once you think you have escaped the Slenderman, remember: 'He can do what no other man can.' - A Hetalia Adaption based on the Mansion Slender game. (1/3 parts up)


**MAIN FLOOR**- Chapter 1

* * *

Thunder crashed, shaking everything in the darkness that was the old mansion. Gilbert looked around at this god forsaken place that not only looked like it was falling apart, but it was strangely familiar to him as if he knew it from another time. Perhaps even this place was a part of the bitter memories he tried to repress in the recess of his mind of mistakes from the past that was perhaps not all his own, but still it stained his reputation. Everything seemed so dark with the looming sense that he should abandon hope, but his feet could only move forward for there was nothing to turn back to.

* * *

One Month Earlier  


"So Ludwig totally wimped out like a little bitch and I like the awesome guy that I am went into the woods. You should have seen him, walking away like a scared little bitch! It was freakin' priceless!"  
Gilbert boisterously exclaimed, resting his arms behind his head as he sprawled out on the couch, his mud caked heels resting on the coffee table. His pet bird flew from his perch on the book shelf to join his owner, coming to the right and offering a happy grunt.

"Oh shut it Gil!" Elizaveta groaned, obviously not interested in his stupid cocky stories and certainly not one to humor his arrogance.  
"So why did you _really_ call me here?" His Hungarian friend asked, tapping her foot in annoyance.  
It wasn't like Gilbert to call Eliza to his confinement that was his basement, something was up and she could see past his facade.

Gilbert offered a nervous laugh, stroking his precious bird under his beak.  
"I guess I can't fool you, can I, Eliza?" He asked, expecting no reply, but the way Eliza looked with fright it was apparent she knew something was more than wrong. He offered a sigh before giving Elizaveta the sweetest smile he could, one that she would never forget.

"I want you to be the one to take care of the little guy for me- you know if something were to ever happen to me." He asked, still petting the golden chick.  
"I mean he's really good for me, as long as you let him out of his cage every day to fly around. He's pretty good at keeping quiet if you need him to be." He praised his beloved pet who ruffled his feathers in happiness at the attention.

He would never abandon his precious pet and it was apparent that there was so much more that needed to be shared. "Gilbert, did something happen? Talk to me-"

"It's nothing." He tried to reassure, raising a hand in protest. He attempted to put Eliza at ease by leaning forward, dropping his feet to the floor and looking at her as he spoke optimistically.  
"Let's think of it as housekeeping, alright? I want to know that he's in good hands alright? That's all. And let's face it, if I left him to just any idiot, well he'd probably burst from all the pasta. Kesesesese."

Elizaveta bit her lower lip before speaking, her voice deep in concern.  
"I feel like you're hiding something from me." She admitted, holding her hands tightly to her chest. "It's not like you to do that."

Yes, normally he was so transparent, but now he seemed to be afraid of something for once in his life. Maybe he thought he was truly going to disappear, maybe he felt it was his time?

"Well it's hard to share what it is when you don't even know what it is." He replied, feeling the hair stand on his neck as he quickly took a glance behind him. That feeling hadn't shaken yet of being followed, it had kept him restless for quite some time.

At first it was only at night since he had ventured into the woods against Ludwig's wishes, but now it was creeping up on him during the day as well.  
He thought he'd find security in controlling his environment by locking himself in his brother's well lit basement, but now it wasn't safe anymore and going outside felt like a death wish.

Many sleepless nights showed, but Eliza thought it was only due to his nightlife, drinking with the boys and causing mischief. However in her heart something wouldn't let her go as well as Ludwig's concerns.

Ludwig brother's neurotic tendencies seemed out of place and reoccurred more often, escalating to the point of sheer paranoia. The slightest sound would set Gilbert off into panic and the lights could not be turned off or else he'd start to scream death. Gilbert apparently refused to even go to the bar for free beer, Ludwig explained to Elizaveta before she headed down the steps and that knowing she was seeing him made him feel more at ease. Something just wasn't right.

Elizaveta swallowed hard, noting the subtle distress on Gilbert's face that his smirk tried to hide."Gilly, you're scaring me."

'You and me both.' Gilbert thought to himself, not answering her. "So you'll do it?" He asked.

"Yeah, sure." The Hungarian replied, concern lacing her words.  
"Gilbert, you can always count on me."

* * *

Gilbert looked around the foyer of the mansion, the only thing behind him were two doors which he couldn't get out of. If this was a dream, it would surely be a nightmare, but it just felt far too real to be a dream. He pinched himself and it was all very real. This was no ordinary dream, it was far worse than he could ever imagine.

He wanted to call out in hopes someone would reply, but his voice caught as thunder resonated in the house and he felt that chill run down his spine and changed his mind. Being found, in this case was probably the last thing he'd ever wish for, but for once he didn't feel that ominous presence on his tail which was the comfort of being so close to the door he reasoned. From where stood he could barely make out the staircase leading upwards and he held a sinking notion that such a grand building had to have a basement.

The splintering floor creaked as Gilbert walked cautiously on the main floor, the smell of rotting damp wood and the disgusting scent of stagnant water catching his nose. A bolt of lightning lit up the room for a brief moment, illuminating the decrepit marble statuette of a woman who had been forgotten long ago. Once the foyer went dark, there were many rooms he could venture into that were dimly lit and eerily calling to him to explore them.

Gilbert turned to the door, pulling at the rusted doorknob with no such luck. He couldn't panic, there wasn't a reason to panic, and he just needed to get out another way. Certainly there was a window he could climb out of. He tried the nearest windows, finding they had been sealed impossibly tight that even his awesome strength couldn't budge it. Gilbert realized he had no choice; he needed to venture away from the door in order to find his way home wherever he was so his feet compelled him to walk forward to the room on the further right. Little did he know he had taken the first steps to his fate.

The room seemed completely forgettable and honestly seemed as if it had been abandoned for quite some time. The entire place gave him that cheap motel feel as he noted the generic way this room was arranged, but not even porn would make this place feel better. This creepy as fuck place was off putting and Gilbert wanted a way out and the longer he'd have to stay here, the longer he would probably be inclined to burn the entire mansion down as he made awful jokes about the 70's. The dusty lamp that lit the yellow room showed modest accessories that had long since been abandoned: a wooden closet, a small table with a old radio along with the lamp and a bed made of light wood with a rounded headboard and a forest green sheets, but the item on top of it seemed so out of place in this room and shimmered differently.

"What's this?" He pondered, noting it was as if the item had a light all its own and as if it were calling to him.

"A frying pan?" He asked himself, taking the worn pan into his hand. At first it seemed so stupid considering how out of place it was, but the skillet soon vanished before his eyes and he felt as if it were now a part of him.

Suddenly the memories of Elizaveta filled his mind; ones where he caused her frustration which resulted in a frying pan to the head, others where he simply remembered her sweet smile all rushing through his mind. The memories began when meeting her as a child; picking on her only to get hurt in return as he tried to conquer the ambitious young country that had thought she was a male. More memories skipped about in his mind of her in her marriage with Roderich, one that seemed far too domesticated for the former warrior that Gilbert had admired. But as he looked on he knew in her way she was happy to be at peace, but longing for something more- or perhaps Gilbert was simply jealous, that he wasn't sure of.

As quickly as those thoughts came they vanished and a sinking feeling came with the weight the memory. A loud sound reminiscent of a bass drum followed as soon as he collected the first item, though he attributed this simply to the thunder from earlier. In that moment he sensed that this mansion still had many more hidden memories he needed to collect if he had any hopes of escaping its walls, he only hoped it wasn't the case.

Thunder definitely didn't add comfort to the creepy atmosphere he was forced in as he walked slowly to the next Spartan room, noticing it looked too familiar to the room from before. It was then he realized that these rooms were practically the same and that it would be really easy to get lost here if he wasn't careful. As he walked on through the joining bathroom that forced him to take a left, he realized just how big this place truly was and all the choices he would have to make- would it be the door to the right or to go on straight into the dark hallway? He chose to go straight, following the staircase that led down to a rusted metal door.

The Prussian swallowed hard, knowing that what could lie beyond that door could very well be the thing that he had been fearing or it could have been his release. He slowly turned the knob, only to find it wouldn't budge. As he observed the knob he saw it required a key, an annoyance surely, but something within him warned him that he needed to go through this door and that this wasn't going to be the only obstacle in this endless night. He decided there was nothing more he could do and that turning about was his only choice. He turned back to the bathroom where he noticed something he had missed earlier sitting in the bathroom sink.

"A plant here?" He asked, taking the wilted leaf into his hand. The crumbling flora reeked of rotting decay but it was by far a more pleasant smell compared to the musty house. Yet again Gilbert faced another item abandoned without reason.  
"The hell was that thing doing in there of all places?"

Gilbert asked himself as he took the item into his hand. It was just like the frying pan before, vanishing and offering more weight into his being as memories fluttered through his mind in a flash. They were of his dear amigo that represented Spain and times shared with the happy go lucky Spaniard. From days where they reigned in conquest and the slaying of enemies by sword and halberd, to modern times where they drank until they were fools, stripping for no apparent reason, other than to get scolded by his bitchy Italian boyfriend. What he wouldn't give to piss the Italian off just one last time, Gilbert wished as he returned to his dismal reality: he would have to keep walking forward.

The additional weight in his chest seemed to bring along the sound of a dark sustained chord that hummed in warning, with it came the feeling of being followed. The brief sound of wind filled the air, catching his attention considering he was in a room with no windows. Gilbert slowly turned about, his breath held fast as he turned his attention to the hallway behind him to glimpse the very figure that had haunted his dreams.

A tall faceless figure in a black suit, his featureless face whiter than snow, stood in the hallway from a distance as if he was stalking his prey from afar. It seemed as if he was dragging its arms, knuckles touching to the floor as he loomed ominously in the door frame, blocking the path from entry. The quick glimpse of horror caused Gilbert's eyes widened in terror as his instincts took hold as he ran away until he was without breath, keeping his eyes on the figure that disappeared once he weaved his way through several rooms.

"That's impossible!" He exclaimed as he caught his breath, the adrenaline subsiding where he stood as he sank against a wall. As much as he wanted to refute what had happened, there was no denying what he had just seen. It was the tall tree like figure he had told tales of in the past to frighten misbehaved children and the very creature of his favorite myth was now stalking him. The reality of it was not sinking in, but he wasn't willing to go back to face whatever the hell that thing was.

The sensation of icy fear that struck through him was akin to those nights he'd suffered since walking into those damned woods as a young empire. Why now? Why was this coming to fruition now, he pondered as he caught his breath.

Once his breath was stilled, Gilbert noticed that the ominous sustained humming that occurred every time that monster was close had stopped for a brief moment as he walked into another room that seemed the same as the others except the key on the long table was new. As long as he kept moving, the monster wouldn't be giving chase or perhaps it was just watching from a distance, playing with Gilbert's emotions.

He expected by taking this key, he would not only envy happier times, but also call out to that strange figure from before. He cautiously reached for the key, only to realize nothing happened. There was no chime, nor was there a memory, in fact he didn't feel he was being followed, but he still knew it would be best if he pressed forward.

The sensation of paranoia had built on ever since he got that key. He was expecting hell, something to chase after him or the floor to cave in, so in efforts to put his mind at ease, Gilbert turned his head, catching a glimpse of something not from this world. It had no face, was the first thing that rushed to his mind. The creature was down the hall from him, closer than he had been before, but still quite a bit away, close enough that Gilbert could realize what was chasing him. "Mein gott." Gilbert offered in breathless whisper, his red eyes trembled as he caught the image of the fiend just as he had remembered in the tales of old. The very creature that plagued Ludwig's nightmares as a boy was now, for a lack of better words, hunting Gilbert.

'Tall man in black. No face and white as the moon. He'll give chase then leave no trace.  
Derr Grobmann.' No, Gilbert didn't even want to fathom this to be true. It was impossible. It had to be impossible for his sake.

"Damn it, stop thinking about it. That's what it wants." Gilbert coached himself through, still keeping his eyes on the figure who stood idly at the hallway. It did not move, but Gilbert dare not move his voice above whisper, nor did he intend to run towards it. Gil's feet were in fact frozen out of fear, locked up and keeping him from moving out of rashness. The anxiety was building, but he needed to press on, his fists clenched tightly as he faced the facts.

"If it wanted to kill me, it would have. He's just fucking with me." Gilbert reasoned and in that moment he made the connection. It wanted him to collect those items and experience those memories; maybe to get a sense of false hope or to experience more misery could be debated. The gravity of the situation hit him hard, the beast never intended for him to survive this.

Gilbert kept his eyes on the creature until it was no longer in sight due to the corner of this endless loop in the labyrinth. To ensure the beast wasn't following he went back to peer past that corner, but the specter was no longer there.

"I just got to find all this shit and get the hell out." He swallowed hard, facing the reality that he needed to get out, for there wasn't time to waste. If that thing was real, Gilbert was in a hell.

The floorboards creaked against each step he took in the decaying mansion. The holes in the floorboard only showed darkness, Gilbert having to be cautious in case dry rot would have its way with the probably wormy floor. It was quite simple to get lost and with that specter blocking off that entrance earlier he knew getting lost was a possibility, but staying that way would send him to the grave earlier than he'd like. By keeping to the right path, he was led to another abandoned bedroom that was no different than the others aside from the chocolate chip cookie that lay innocently on the bed. It seemed so out of place and as he took the item he sensed that he was no longer alone, but still the memory of his dear doting friend Francis came to mind.

The debonair Frenchman who always placed Gilbert in check humbling him in the kindest of ways, but also never judgmental nor afraid to join the Prussian in less than moral behavior. They had a shared history of being bullies with each other against other countries, Gilbert using his strengths to compensate for Francis' weakness. They were true friends, without fear to share honestly with each other about fear, resentments, among other aspects. Gilbert felt in his soul that if Francis was there the day he challenged his younger brother into the woods; Francis would have advocated doing otherwise. Francis would have spared Gilbert this suffering, if only.

These items seemed to mock the Prussian, reminding him of the feeling of fear a child would feel, but he was determined not to show this. Yes he'd made mistakes, but now he had learned from them. Peace of mind would be given once he got the hell out of here.

He heard a ringing from a far of room and a sudden feeling of despair hit him. He had seen enough horror movies to expect what was to happen if he went anywhere near that telephone. As he encroached towards the telephone, something about it didn't settle right in his gut. The hallway grew darker and what little light shone into it from the open window showed that this looked like an end with no way out. Gilbert swallowed hard, the ringing phone screaming at him to pick up the receiver.

He brought a shaky pale hand to it and slowly lifted the receiver to his ear and asked,  
"Hello? Is anyone-" But the response at the other end was none other than his past to haunt him.

The sounds of enemies plans flying overhead instantly was heard, enough to cause the Prussian jump, but as he shut his eyes these memories came to life and he was amongst it all yet again. Circa WWII as orders were being shouted at him in German and the cries of thousands could be heard. So many people dying and terrified all while Gilbert could do nothing as he watched on in the distance as thick black smoke filling the skies near the dark forest. Sadly he did not remember such years well for his health was weak and he felt that he would soon perish, but this was still just a part of the game. The beast seemed to remember better than it would let on.

Finally all the noise had stopped: the ringing ceased, the screams of agony had faded and a distant rumble of thunder echoed in the heavens. It had past, but it was now time to turn around. His intuition was right- this was a dead end and that term held more truth to it now than it ever had. Gilbert mustered up the courage, slowly turning his head, feeling the ominous presence on his back. His mouth was dry, bitter even and he could no longer bear the anxiety.  
He turned his heels, much like a good solider ready to face his fate. If this is where he was to die, so be it for he had accepted death.

But as he turned about, there was nothing.

Nothing was waiting for him, but the sense of doubt. Perhaps he'd truly been seeing things. This fairytale couldn't be real. Gilbert began to question everything now. Maybe this was just a cruel game, revenge from Ludwig's part or maybe a cruel sick joke from his friends.

"You guys, this isn't even funny. It's not awesome even in the slightest." Gilbert laughed nervously. "Come on now, cut this out."

No response came.

"Alright, so that didn't work." The Prussian thought to himself, finding that this effort to calm his nerves only ended in vain. To Gilbert's recollection, no one else knew of these stories. They were ancient myths, often lost through time. There was no way that Francis let alone Antonio would know anything about this creature. Roderich had nothing to gain by pulling a cruel prank like this and this wasn't Eliza's style at all, far too creepy for her altogether. Fuck, even Japan wasn't twisted enough for this class of horror. Then who the hell was put up to do this? A retarded scavenger hunt in an abandoned 1930's mansion in the middle of the dark woods, that was rich.

But even if his friends were able to pull this off, how did they make him experience those memories. Maybe it was new modern technology, a drug or a gas, or even magic. Fuck, if magic was involved then Gilbert was really starting to get worried. Logic was already shaky and offered little to no comfort that he so desperately needed. There had to be some means of an explanation to this madness.

Gilbert realized that this game with whatever the hell that thing is was still in play since nothing had occurred, which meant there were a few more items to collect, how many it would take was a completely different question. He continued on along this route, keeping his right hand on the right wall as he turned to a final hallway he had yet to explore, which led to yet other bedrooms forgotten by time. On the twin bed rest a pathetic stuffed bear that wished to be picked up. The teddy bear seemed as if it was sadly forgotten, its fur matted and dingy, but certainly well loved.

As he took the item he brought it close to him in an embrace, similar to a certain Canadian he knew all too well. As he held it tightly he felt the overwhelming feeling of solitude, abandoned and forgotten just like that bear he had found. There would be no hope, no search and rescue, and yet the overwhelming need to survive was still within him. Just as sweet as the taste of maple syrup, Gilbert needed to be alive, he had so much left to say to the Canadian among others and time to spend as well- if he could get out of here.

The warm thought made the Prussian smile for a moment, inspiring him to persevere a while longer, even though he could feel his head pounding from the frustration of it all. He wandered into the other rooms, feeling an overwhelming sense of despair as he followed the same trail as before, realizing he was only repeating the same path as before; he needed to break the cycle- he veered left into the darker room.

The painting mounted on the wall seemed out of place in these pale dry rotted rooms. A dismal landscape with bare black trees, twisted towards the little sunlight the gray sky offered. In the center two figures holding hands, looking pitifully at the viewer. It almost made the Prussian laugh considering that the two children looked identical to the Germanic brothers themselves.

In those days that they had held up refuge from their people, hiding in the dark woods to protect their identities which now seemed to be in vain. There was no escape from a lie, which is what this monster chasing him taught him. The painting caused Gilbert to snort, laughing at his own fate as he looked it over once more. But he had done it all for a reason, he had done it with a young Ludwig in mind.

Though now surely was no time to appreciate the paint strokes that brought the image to life he felt a sadness in his heart as he took the frame into his shaking hands. There was no doubt this was another of his memories and at this point he wasn't ready to take any more of them, but he wanted out of this hell hole more than anything. The image of the dark forest vanished from sight and he was alone, the overwhelming sense of sorrow taking over him as he relived the fall of the Holy Roman Empire.

He was a boy who had grown up much too fast, a boy who had simply grown too big to bear any more suffering. It was that day on the battlefield, where everything had caught on fire under gray dark skies that Gilbert realized the empire held fast to a painting in his arms with sheer desperation. The Prussian used the tip of his boots to see if he would move, only to have the small frame reply motionless. It was the smile on the former empire's face that reminded the almighty Prussia that this was the fate for all empires. Perhaps in His way, God had shown him mercy. God would not make him slowly disappear; vanish before the eyes of loved ones.

A sole tear escaping him before he heard the ominous sound of angry chords of a piano echoed through the dark halls. His heart stopped, frozen in place. He knows he should not look behind him, but the overwhelming temptation had Gilbert slowly turning his head to see behind him. It was closer, far closer than before within arm's reach with its sinister looming claw, a quick glimpse that seared into Gilbert's memory, into his soul as he tried to run.

He couldn't bear it, running down the hall instead, terror taking hold of him and running towards the stairwell from before. There was no refuge anymore- and there was no longer any light in this place. He gasped, finding himself face to face with the rusted iron door.

"Scheiße!" He cursed to himself as he frantically searched for a key to open the door. He could feel the creature's shadow taunting him, hearing a distinct sound from the beast behind him. Gil's own panting wasn't loud enough to drown out the cruel beast's shrieks. The metal key was grasped tightly into his sweating hand as he tried to open the door, missing the lock the first time as he quickly inserted the key. The key got stuck, the lock refusing to turn, the scent of rust catching as Gilbert tried forcing the door open. Gilbert whimpered, desperate for escape as he felt the beast come closer. He managed to twist the lock free and with escape in sight he pushed the door aside and ran into blind darkness, stumbling down the steps until he could no longer hear those bone chilling cries from the nightmare he knew by another name: Slenderman.

* * *

Continue? Y/N


End file.
